


A Thrill of Hope

by OnceUponAWhim



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Eve, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-22 22:15:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13176312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnceUponAWhim/pseuds/OnceUponAWhim
Summary: ...the weary soul rejoices. A belated Christmas tale. [Lucy/Wyatt, mid-season 2]





	A Thrill of Hope

**Author's Note:**

> _…the weary soul rejoices_

 

Lucy shot Rufus an appreciative smile as she backed away from their quick embrace, but quickly shifted her focus to scanning her planned exit route for any signs of Wyatt-shaped (or Jiya-shaped, for that matter) obstacles. It wasn't that she was specifically against seeing either of them; in actuality, she really felt pretty terrible about dodging them the night before Christmas Eve when she wouldn't see them (by the grace of Wyatt having fired a decently-sized hole in the Mothership, not to mention in one of Emma's sidekicks, on this most recent jump) or be able to give them their gifts until after Christmas itself.

She just had a feeling that those two wouldn't be quite so quietly accepting of her decision as Rufus had been, and she really didn't feel up to a confrontation or being guilted into anything.

So, seeing that the coast was clear, she darted out the main door of Mason Industries and across the parking lot.

She made it all the way to the point of literally having her right foot already swung into the car when the familiar baritone rang out across the gravel-coated expanse in front of her.

"Lucy!"

She cringed at the sound of her name and squeezed her eyes shut, wincing further when she heard the footsteps approaching the other side of the car.

"Where's the fire?" Wyatt teased good-naturedly. "You bolted pretty quick."

Lucy braced herself, gripping the top frame of the car door as she forced a tight smile onto her face. "Just want to get home," she replied blandly. "Tired."

Concern washed over Wyatt's face immediately. "You ok to drive though?"

A short nod in the affirmative was all Lucy offered in reply, hoping to expedite her escape.

"Alright," Wyatt sighed, looking visibly more glum than when he'd first bounded over to her, "well…" He trailed off before brightening a little. "See you tomorrow afternoon though, right?"

Lucy's eyes fell closed as she exhaled a long breath and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Uh, no," she stated, not elaborating.

She tried to ignore the crestfallen expression that overtook Wyatt's face as he stammered, "Wait, what? Why?"

"I don't… feel up to it," she offered, squirming under his stare.

"Monday though?" he asked, sounding hopeful.

Lucy just shook her head grimly. Maybe she'd have felt differently – scratch that, yeah, she would have felt differently – had the notion of possibilities resurfaced even once since that day months ago. But they hadn't.

Wyatt's face fell once more. "You can't skip Christmas," he protested softly.

"Well, I am," she defied, trying to sound less shaky about the whole ordeal than she actually was.

"Lu-"

She didn't give him the chance to attempt to persuade her otherwise; her actual explanation – the one she'd been trying to just gloss over – came tumbling out of her mouth without her permission. "Wyatt, I love Rufus for asking us to come over and including us," she conceded. "But I can't-"

And that was the point at which the emotions she was vehemently trying to keep at bay began to threaten, the words catching in her throat as the beginnings of tears welled on the corners of her eyes.

And it must have shown; Wyatt's expression softened even as he gazed at her questioningly.

Lucy sniffled, trying to compose herself and, given that she clearly wasn't getting out of the conversation, at least articulate her feelings reasonably well. "I can't just sit there and watch him –  _them_  – the siblings, the mom, the kids, the significant other – have all of that on Christmas," she explained, all the while cursing at the rogue tear that had escaped to make its way down her cheek, "when I have none of it." She swiped at the tear, irrationally angry at it for betraying her in front of Wyatt and making her look even more sad and pathetic than she already felt. Though better to be irrationally angry at that than to let herself get angry or impatient with Wyatt's inaction in terms of re-visiting those possibilities; it wasn't his fault if he really, truly just didn't feel ready or interested or whatever or was just all about the Time Team aspect of it all rather than anything special with her. Most days she was more than grateful for his presence in her life exactly as it was. But not on Christmas. Between that, and Amy, and her dad not being her actual father, and her mother part of the whole Rittenhouse mess? Yeah, no. She wouldn't be able to make it through a full day of Rufus and Jiya and his family. "I just- It's stupid and petty," she tried to explain lamely, "I know, but I can't help how I feel. It wouldn't be particularly festive anyway if I just ended up crying the bathroom at Rufus' mom's house feeling sorry for myself." She quipped weakly, trying to play it off as nothing by flashing Wyatt a wan smile. But it was to no avail; a second tear slipped out. "I just need to be at home where I can ignore everything holiday until the 26th."

If he'd looked dismayed before, Wyatt looked practically devastated by her admission, a hushed "Lucy…" slipping from his lips as he moved to round the car to her side.

But she just needed to be alone. To wallow in that alone-ness, as it were. Quickly, Lucy blurted out a short, "Merry Christmas, Wyatt. I hope you guys have a nice time tomorrow and Monday," before throwing herself into the car, slamming the door, and jamming her key into the ignition before he could reach her.

And she left him there in the parking lot.

She did notice her phone light up, sitting on the passenger seat where she'd tossed it, as she made the turn onto the main road, Wyatt's name flashing across the screen amidst the faint buzzes of its vibration. Lucy just flipped it over, burying it under the scarf she hadn't yet wrapped around her neck, and was grateful when she didn't hear any more buzzing after that first call.

As much as she wanted to just get home and bury herself under covers for the next two days, she knew there wasn't much in the way of passable sustenance in her apartment, and, given that Christmas Eve would just mean hordes of people swarming even the grocery stores for last-minute cheese platters, baking supplies, and whatever else the holiday feasts entailed, she detoured to quickly stop at the store and grab her usual staples, nothing festive, so she didn't have to go the next day.

Once home, she threw the groceries into the fridge and freezer, and pretty much crawled into bed, exhausted from the last jump and hoping she could somehow just magically sleep through the next two days.

Of course, she didn't.

She slept a little later than normal, but still crawled out of bed by 9-ish, and, in an attempt to just forget that it was Christmas Eve and go through the motions of a regular day, forced herself down the small gym in the common area of the apartment complex. It was hardly the ideal living situation – forced by Agent Christopher into a secure but bland, corporate, far-too-big-for-just-her three-bedroom place – but even Lucy had to admit that it  _was_  nice to have the pool and the gym and 24-hour coffee in the complex's main building.

After an hour or so on the treadmill (too bad you can't  _actually_ run away from your problems, she lamented), Lucy headed back to her apartment for a quick shower, then threw on some jeans and a sweater and settled at her desk with some oatmeal and tea to try to make some progress on an book manuscript she'd been toying with before the whole time travel mess started.

But her heart wasn't in it, and apathy and restlessness took over pretty quickly, so she relocated to the less-than-comfortable futon she'd bought on a whim when she'd moved in so she'd have  _something_  to sit on aside from her desk chair. She flicked on the TV and selected one of the ever-present Law and Order marathons that always seemed to be on, seeing as the episode plots were about as far from festive as one could get.

And so went Lucy's Christmas Eve. She got up at some point to heat up some soup she'd gotten the night before for lunch, then dozed after that. Law and Order eventually gave way to some Christmas movie that she did not care to watch, so once awake again, she flipped to some season-long binge of some cooking competition. It wasn't anything great, but it was enough to keep her mind off what was going on over at Rufus' place.

It was just getting to be that gray area between late afternoon and sunset when a knock at the apartment door roused her out of her TV-induced stupor. Frowning, she pulled herself up to a sitting position and eyed the door warily.

Another knock echoed in her too-empty living room.

With a sigh, Lucy pulled herself up off the couch and headed over to the door, her curiosity piqued. A quick glance through the peephole revealed the last thing she'd expected.

She could see  _Wyatt_ , sporting what appeared to be a Santa hat, laden down with all sorts of bags.

None of which made any sense.

Lucy knew she couldn't exactly ignore him, since he well knew that she would be there. But, she resolved to herself as she flipped the lock to open the door, there was no way in hell that she would allow him to guilt her into going with him to spend Christmas with Rufus and his family. She'd been fine so far today in ignoring everything going on in the real world; she could keep right on doing that, and she planned on telling him as much.

Yanking the door open, she steeled herself for a battle of wills, but, once she got a better view of what indeed was a Santa hat, plus what proved to be a bevy of mostly Target bags, she couldn't help the little flutter in her stomach that his presence usually touched off.

When he didn't say anything at first, just regarding her with a sheepish expression instead, Lucy lifted her eyebrows in a questioning challenge.

Wyatt just shrugged his shoulders helplessly in response, declaring to her, "You can't not celebrate Christmas."

Lucy sighed. She'd figured as much. But she really, really, didn't feel like going anywhere and pretending to be all merry and cheerful when she wasn't. She voiced her protest immediately, "Wya-"

But he cut her off before she could even finish his name. "I know you don't want to go to Rufus' place," he acknowledged, "but you gotta do something. So I have all the decorations they were still selling at Target," he continued, nodding down to his bag-laden hands, "and I have some semblance of a Christmas dinner for you."

Lucy's jaw dropped. Ok, so that was  _not_  what she'd been expecting. Not that it mattered that she couldn't even come up with any sort of response, because Wyatt just kept going.

"You can let me in and I'll decorate for you," he informed her, "or you can tell me to leave. And," came his soft, sad concession, "I will, if that's what you want. But," he added, with a hint of playful warning in his voice as he eyed the bags again, "I'm leaving the stuff so at the very least you have to stare at the boxes of decorations."

For as much as she hadn't wanted to deal with anything Christmas whatsoever, Lucy found herself unable to tell him to leave. A stupid little voice in the back of her mind was getting altogether too excited about the prospect of Wyatt doing something so thoughtful for her, encouraging those damn butterflies in her stomach. She mentally shot down that stupid little voice, reminding it that Wyatt was a genuinely kind person, who would have done the same for Rufus or Jiya or any one of his friends; she wasn't anything special to him, much as she'd have liked to have been. Still, she allowed herself, it  _was_  super sweet of him to have gone out of his way like this just because she'd decided to have a mope-y holiday. Which, apparently, if she gave in to that sentiment, she wouldn't be getting.

Feeling a somewhere between being all aflutter and defeated, not really knowing how to process this unexpected development, Lucy wordlessly stepped aside, allowing Wyatt and all the junk he was carrying into the apartment.

Wyatt unceremoniously set the shopping bags down into a giant pile just off to the right once inside the door, tossing his jacket on top of a few of them before regarding the space.

Lucy cringed inwardly; he'd been there before, helping her move the meager few belongings she'd amassed while staying in a hotel for a few weeks after leaving her mother's house abruptly. But it was one thing to see a new, empty place. It's not as if she'd exactly made it into a real home since then. It pretty much looked like she was a college kid, or even some squatter in the apartment.

Thankfully, Wyatt didn't comment on the (lack of) décor or furnishings. He did, however, sneer at the TV, commenting with a wrinkled nose, "'Top Chef'? Real festive."

Lucy rolled her eyes, his exaggerated disdain enough to spur her back into a mode other than 'mute'. "That was the point," she muttered, "plus the Law and Order marathon ended already."

"Jeez," Wyatt scoffed with some side-eye of his own, taking the liberty of plucking the remote control from her small coffee table. He began flipping through the channels, eventually landing on what Lucy recognized as 'Elf', but he caught her eye and hesitated just as he was setting the remote back down. "You can kick me out, seriously," he stated, his gaze soft and serious. "If you really don't want this. I just thoug-"

She shook her head, cutting him off with a wan smile. "No, it's ok, I-" Lucy faltered, not quite sure of what exactly she was feeling, never mind how to articulate it to Wyatt. "I appreciate it," she finally spat out. "You didn't have to do this."

"Yeah, I did," he countered gently, his vivid blue stare boring into Lucy a beat too long, causing her heart to thud a little harder, a little faster.

But then he coughed, his gaze dropping from her. The moment gone, he scratched at the back of his neck then used the same hand to gesture over to the starkly empty corner of her living room, between the windows and her TV stand. "I figured the tree would go over there."

"Yeah, ok," Lucy stammered, her own gaze darting around as she fought to breathe deep and ignore the rush of emotions he always seemed to elicit in her. Thankfully, her line of sight landed on the few plastic bags with the logo of the local grocery store rather than Target, and she spotted a small carton of milk poking out of the top of one of them. "Um," she mumbled, grabbing at the grocery bags, "I guess I'll put this away first."

The few minutes it took her to put away the food – she was kind of amazed at how thoroughly he'd been put together a pretty traditional Christmas dinner for one, including a small turkey breast, a tiny can of Pillsbury rolls, a bottle of wine, and sugar cookie dough, among other things – gave her a bit of a break to try and compose herself. No, Lucy, she chastised herself, he was not here because of any sort of romantic intentions –  _that_  much was clear from the utter lack of progress or advancement on that front since that one fleeting mention of possibilities that she must have misinterpreted. He was here out of the goodness of his heart because he felt badly for a friend. Never mind that  _she_ , that friend in question, had wanted to spend the day alone, at least in part because of those unrealized possibilities…

Lucy took a deep breath and tried to shake that train of thought from her mind. It was a nice gesture, and he'd offered to leave. She couldn't exactly kick him out after the fact because he didn't feel as she did. She'd just have to try to appreciate the gesture for what it was, all the while trying not to think of everything and everyone she was still missing.

With the groceries Wyatt had brought put away, Lucy didn't have an excuse to avoid the decorating any longer, so she headed back out to the living room to find that, from one of the boxes, he'd managed to produce a nearly full-sized synthetic evergreen. And even with her mood all over the map, she had to stifle a smile at the sight of him sitting cross-legged on the ground looking somewhat stymied by the prospect of plucking the lights from the plastic tray in the box without damaging them.

But he managed, and together they finagled the lights around the tree, then added garland and the array of ornaments that Wyatt had picked out. Most of them were multi-packs of generic shapes in ghastly lime green and purple tones – all that was left that late in the game, Wyatt claimed – but Lucy was kind of touched to find that he'd managed to find a few with a teacher theme for her, with apples, books, and the like, and then a couple TARDIS ornaments, which was the closest thing to the Lifeboat that existed in terms of Christmas decorations.

Lucy was still admiring how well the whole thing had come together when, out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of Wyatt, armed with a roll of tape, affixing stockings to her cheap Ikea TV stand in the absence of a fireplace. Which, fine, a nice touch, and not unexpected considering the other lengths he'd gone to in terms of providing her with an actual Christmas, but it was only when he backed away, finished with all four stockings, that her breath caught in her throat, tears stinging her eyes and blurring her vision.

The four stockings each had initials – L, A, C, and H. Her  _family_.

But beyond her eyes watering, she didn't even get a chance to process that, because before she could, Wyatt was sliding a few wrapped gifts under the tree. Where they had materialized from, Lucy had no idea, but they most certainly prompted her already-watering eyes to spill over. It was too much. "Wyatt…" she protested, sniffling.

He looked up guiltily, caught red-handed as he slid the last of the handful of packages beneath the tree. "You gotta have presents," he muttered with a bashful shrug.

She flashed him a shaky smile in return, swiping at her damp cheeks. Since opting to stay home, she'd assumed that she'd dole out the gifts she'd bought for her friends once they were all back at Mason Industries for their next meeting or time jump, but seeing as Wyatt was there, she figured might as well just give him his, so she held up a finger and hurried down the hall to one of the otherwise unused bedrooms. There, she rifled through the small pile of gifts she'd amassed, plucking Wyatt's few from there and heading back out toward the living room.

But apparently her quick exit, coupled with the fact that she'd been a little weepy, had been enough to worry Wyatt; instead of still being out in the living room, he was lingering just outside the doorway to the extra bedroom. So when Lucy emerged, gifts in hand, his shocked expression looked completely authentic. Of course, he tried to play it off with a joke, quipping, "So the 'bah humbug' Grinch thing was just an act?"

It was Lucy's turn to feel a little sheepish, and headed toward the living room with her back to Wyatt behind as she admitted, "…I actually had these for a while. Before-" She blinked hard and swiped at the last of the residual tears to escape as she took a shaky breath, "Before I realized how much everything would  _suck_  the closer we got to Christmas."

Once back out in the living room, Lucy stood, gifts still in her arms, frozen as she eyed where he'd put presents for her under the tree. But it's not as if it was  _his_ tree, nor was it his apartment and he'd inevitably be leaving soon. There was no reason to put his gifts there.

Wyatt must have picked up on her indecision, nodding at the items in her arms. "Should I open 'em before I leave?"

Lucy could practically  _feel_  her face fall, despite trying to hide it and despite how strongly she'd, just a couple hours earlier, been hoping to just be alone in the absence of anything with any hint of Christmas. It was silly to think he Wyatt might stay longer; he'd already gone out of his way to do so much for her. But it undeniably stung to hear it confirmed that he would indeed be leaving.

"Oh, um, right," she spat out, the bright tone in her voice most surely sounding forced, though there was nothing she could do at that point to remedy that. So she just continued hurriedly, "You're going to Rufus'. Yeah, you should op-"

"I didn't think you'd even want me here  _this_  long," Wyatt cut her off in a nervous rush. "I don't have to go there. I can stay," he insisted.

Lucy felt her face flame; how dumb did she look, having claimed to want to be alone, and now pathetically, visibly upset at the prospect of him leaving? Still, now that he'd been here, she couldn't help but want to prolong his proximity as long as she could. Plus, she kind of wanted to see his reactions when he opened his gifts. "Well," she hedged, "you made me watch these stupid Christmas movies and another one just started," she added, gesturing to the opening scenes of another movie on screen. "So-"

Thankfully, Wyatt neither called her out on her inconsistent stance on how to spend the holiday nor her lame excuse to get him to stay. "I can stay to watch it," he grinned. "It…" he glanced over at the screen to see what movie had showed up. "…has the Jurassic Park guy as Santa. Can't beat that," he assured her. Then he eyed the kitchen, before darting in the direction of the freezer. "Lemme just…" He trailed off, pulling from the freezer the frozen pizza Lucy had found in the groceries that he'd brought over.

"I was wondering why that was there," Lucy puzzled aloud.

Looking up from reading the label, Wyatt explained with mock solemnity, "Pizza is Christmas Eve food."

"Ah," Lucy nodded, relaxing a bit now that she knew he'd be there a bit longer.

Relaxed, but still not quite at ease. She set his gifts down over by the tree, but retreated back over to where she could see him in the kitchen. Her heart ached, seeing him there, in  _her_  apartment,  _her_ her living space, poking at the oven to preheat it, preemptively pulling out plates and glasses and napkins as if he belonged there all the time.

But she didn't get to dwell on that musing; the oven preheated quickly, Wyatt slid the frozen pizza in, and took her hand to lead her over to the tree. "Come on," he murmured, running his thumb over her knuckles, eliciting a shiver from Lucy. She couldn't help but feel a pang in her chest when he let go just as quickly to flop down on the floor next to the tree. "Here," he said, reaching for one of his gifts to her and sliding it across the carper toward her feet. "Open."

Lucy sat obediently and carefully pried the paper and tape from the present. And, for possibly the first time in a few days, a true laugh bubbled up and escaped from her throat; how could it not when the package held the DVD sets for seasons one through four of 'Drunk History'?

"Gotta admit," Wyatt chuckled in concert with her laugh, "all this stuff might be more entertaining like that."

"Thank you," Lucy replied with sincerity, simultaneously grinning to herself at the bit of parallelism with respect to one of her gifts for him. She reached for the gift in question and nudged it over toward him.

He proved a little more violent that she when it came to pulling off wrapping paper, so quite quickly, Wyatt was holding two small books.

"'Everything You Need to Ace American History in One Big Fat Notebook: The Complete  _Middle School_  Study Guide'," he read aloud from the cover. Peering at the second book, he continued, "And world history, also  _middle_  school," he smirked wryly. "Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence in my intellectual level," he snorted, albeit still with a genuine smile.

"Thought they might help for the time jumps." Lucy gave him a cheeky grin in return. "They're actually pretty good," she assured him.

Wyatt let out a soft snort, setting them aside. "My middle school intellect and I appreciate them."

Lucy smiled once more, reaching for a second gift for him. "On that note, here," she said, handing the second small package over.

The small box was quickly opened to reveal an Xbox gift card. Wyatt looked up at her with a raised eyebrow. "I'm not  _actually_  12, you know."

"I've heard you and Rufus talking about playing," Lucy pointed out.

"Touché," Wyatt acquiesced as he handed her another small, lightweight box. "Here."

She was surprised to find a Macy's gift card, and looked up at Wyatt in mild confusion.

Now, she might have been imagining it, but he almost seemed to blush a little, the snarky bravado of the first gifts gone as he explained, "I know a lot of your stuff kind of got lost or disappeared or whatever when you were suddenly living with that guy, and then when you had to leave your mom's house…" He shrugged, nodding at the card. "Figured they'd have clothes, or kitchen stuff, or towels and sheets or whatever. And nicer than Walmart or Target," he added, continuing, "And if anything you buy needs two people to put it together, I'm on it."

Lucy swallowed hard, touched by the thoughtful gesture. It was one thing to get her a silly history DVD, but quite another to realize how uncomfortable she was living in this impersonal space without most of her belongings and try to ameliorate the situation as best he could. "Thank you," she managed, then deflected the attention on her away by pushing the final gift for Wyatt toward him.

At first he looked slightly perplexed by yet another book, but Lucy could see the moment that the title registered in his mind.

"It's a, uh, first edition," she stammered, nodding at the 'Weapon of Choice' volume in his hand. "Autographed."

Wyatt just kind of gaped at her, his gaze darting between her and the book, and Lucy had no idea what to make of that, so she just rambled on, trying to fill the silence. "I- You know, might as well take advantage of some of the changes we've made," she added with a nervous shrug.

"Yeah," he nodded slowly, his voice a little gravelly as he added a "Thank you, Lucy."

And with that, all that was left was two identical packages from the initial pile of Wyatt's gifts for her. He grabbed both at the same time, regarded them both for a minute, then wordlessly handed them over.

A little puzzled by his sudden subdued demeanor, Lucy opened the first carefully.

The tears were back with a vengeance when the paper gave way to reveal a framed 8x10 photo – the one of her with Amy, the tiny little print from her locket. "How?" she asked, her voice hushed and her eyes never leaving the image of her sister smiling up at her.

She heard Wyatt clear his throat before elaborating, "I took a copy of the little picture to this graphics guy Jiya knows, to try and enhance it to make an enlargement look ok and not a pixelated mess. It probably doesn't look right for Amy, but-"

"It's perfect," Lucy whispered, finally looking up at him through her blurry, tearful gaze. She couldn't be sure given the impact the tears had on her vision at that moment, but she swore he might have brushed away a tear of his own before nodding toward the second frame.

If he did, he hid it well, quickly moving to poke the matching gift.

Lucy obliged, opening it as well and then facing a new onslaught of tears when she saw her own smiling face once more, though this time she was next to Rufus. And on Rufus' other side, Wyatt. Some silly throwaway photo that Jiya had taken of the three of them in their historical outfits.

Still staring at the photo, Lucy heard Wyatt cough again, then gently explain, "I know you think you don't have anyone with your family screwed up, but you have us."

Which she was  _so_ grateful for. Honestly, Lucy knew that if it hadn't been for Wyatt and Rufus being exactly who they were, and exactly who she needed through all they'd had to deal with, she'd never have held up as well as she had. And here was Wyatt, going above and beyond to remind her of what she had in them, and in him, even when she wanted to crawl in a hole over the holidays to be alone. And she kind of loved him for it. Among all the other things she was pretty sure she loved him for at this point.

With that fresh round of tears spilling over, Lucy rose to her knees and crawled over to Wyatt, launching herself at him in an awkward hug. "Thank you," she mumbled, her face buried in his shoulder.

She felt his arms wrap tightly around her, his hands splayed over her back, rubbing gently. And it was more than likely wishful thinking, but Lucy thought she may have even felt him press a kiss to the top of her head.

Before he murmured in her ear, "Friends  _are_  family."

Friends.

 _Friends_.

Lucy stiffened in his embrace, the warm fuzzy quality of the moment that, had she had her way about it, might have even swelled from warm to something a little more heated, quickly doused by the icy chill that was that word.

Just friends. That's all they were, to him. Ugh, she groaned inwardly, pushing herself away from him, trying to get her stupid emotions under control while expertly avoiding eye contact.

Thankfully, the oven timer chose that moment to announce that their pizza was ready.

"I got it," Lucy mumbled, jumping up to race off to the kitchen. She took her time pulling the pizza from the oven, futzing around looking for something to cut it with, heating up water for tea simply because it would take longer and give her more of a breather away from Wyatt. Most of the time, she was fine. But this? This tug-of-war that her emotions played on her every time her imagination read a little too far into the looks, the gestures, the words, from Wyatt? This is partially what she'd been hoping to avoid in staying alone at home.

For the zillionth time, she took a deep breath and reminded herself that Wyatt was perfectly within his rights to want to be her friend, and  _only_  her friend, and she couldn't hold it agai-

Her train of thought was interrupted by the man in question rounding the end of the breakfast bar into the kitchen, the questions in his eyes asking if she was ok just as much as he was also asking if she needed help with the food.

Lucy just forced another smile and shoved the plates at him, then grabbed tea for herself and one of the bottles of soda he'd had in with the groceries for him.

To an outsider, the silence that descended upon them as they ate and continued watching 'Miracle on 34th Street' might have come off as amicably comfortable. And maybe that's exactly what it was to Wyatt, Lucy reasoned with herself. But she couldn't shake the sense of melancholy that had crept in for her since that hug. She was incredibly touched by everything Wyatt had done for her, both that night for Christmas and since they'd met, really. But she  _hated_  that, even after they'd kissed, even after his ill-fated attempt to remedy Jessica's fate, even after that talk of possibilities when she could have  _sworn_  that he'd meant wanting to explore a relationship with her, he still seemed to do it all out of purely platonic friendship.

Still, as the movie wore on, Lucy found herself less worried about the long-term lack of relationship and more focused on just relishing their closeness on the futon while she had it. As the re-make flowed into an airing of the original movie, neither of them made any move to get up, and as a pleasant drowsiness washed over her, Lucy felt herself slumping over toward Wyatt. At some point, he slid his arm over her shoulders, holding her closer. She knew she should stop her mind from getting too excited about the gesture, but the soft lights of the tree were pretty, Wyatt was warm and cozy next to her, and she couldn't bring herself to sit up straighter and burst the close, cozy bubble she'd found herself settled in.

The last thing she remembered was letting her eyes fall closed as she pressed her face to his chest and breathed in that intrinsically Wyatt scent.

* * *

Lucy rolled over, froze, then sat up and blinked blearily into the night. She squinted at the dim glow of the bedside clock in confusion. Two in the morning.

She frowned. She didn't recall actually going to bed, and she could have sworn that Wyatt had come over… Still foggy with sleep, she wondered if it had all been a dream.

No, she didn't think so… And, shifting in bed as she regained more of her senses, she realized she was still wearing jeans and her underwire bra was most definitely digging in on one side.

Crawling out from under the covers, Lucy shed her clothes in the darkness. She fumbled around for the pajamas she'd left on top of her hamper that morning and eventually managed to locate the loose pants, camisole, and long-sleeved top. After quickly slipping into them, she padded out of the bedroom, down the hall, and to the living room.

It hadn't been a dream.

The tree was there, the lights still on and giving a soft, otherworldly glow to the room, nearly the only thing hinting at Wyatt's endeavor to cheer her up for the holiday. Dishes had been cleared away, scraps of wrapping paper picked up, lights and lamps turned off aside from the tree, her new DVDs stacked neatly on the TV stand, and new picture frames arranged on either side of the TV itself – none of which had been her doing.

The only other hint that it hadn't been a fanciful dream? The culprit behind all of those sweetly thoughtful gestures, asleep, half-curled up on his side on the too-short, uncomfortable futon, one arm tucked under his head with a small throw pillow, the other resting on his side atop the thin blanket he'd found on the back of the futon and pulled over himself.

For what felt like the millionth time since Wyatt had arrived, laden down with decorations and gifts, Lucy's eyes welled up with tears, the sight tugging at her heartstrings. He looked even younger, more innocent, asleep there by the light of the Christmas tree. And for not the first time, she wondered what might have become of them if, by some twist of fate, they'd met in a timeline in which he'd never known Jessica.

She sniffled quietly; she was so grateful for him, she just wanted more than he was apparently willing to give.

The next thing she knew, she was inching closer to him. Some crazy, irrational, overly emotional part of her just wanted to know what it might be like to have him like that. It had been so long since she'd had any sort of meaningful relationship… And after his bringing over an entire Christmas for her… Maybe she could just pretend for a little while?

Before she could talk herself out of it, Lucy crept closer to the futon, straightened the blanket, and, lifting one corner of it, eased herself down next to Wyatt. She held her breath, momentarily immobile, but when he didn't stir, she shimmied further down and tugged the blanket over both of them. She'd only lie there for a minute…

With that thought in her mind, she tucked herself under his chin, resting her forehead and one hand on his chest, letting herself imagine – just for a little while – what it would be like to really have this…

* * *

Lucy woke for the second time in a few hours, breathing in a deep contented sigh and snuggling in deeper to the cozy warmth in front of her.

Lucy then also froze upon waking, for the second time in a few hours, when, from that cozy warmth came a low, gravelly mumble, thick with sleep.

Wyatt hummed his approval against the top of her head, then murmuring, "Did Santa bring you for me?" as he slid his arm over her waist to hold her closer.

It was upon hearing his voice that it finally registered for Lucy that she'd fallen asleep when she'd only intended to steal a few quick minutes next to him. She blinked hard, quickly scanning the close proximity of their bodies and immediately pushing herself up off the futon and away from him in a frenzy of apologies, "Oh god- I'm sorry, I-" she stammered, her cheeks flaming, clumsily trying to kick away the blanket that had somehow become inextricably entangled with both their legs. "I didn't mean-"

"Lucy," Wyatt insisted softly with a smirk, still not even bothering to open his eyes, "stay." And to punctuate his request, he stretched a little and reached for the blanket with the arm not under his head, pulling it up and then reaching for Lucy's waist in one fell swoop.

"No," Lucy resisted, "I-"

His response was to apply a little more gentle force, tugging her fully down next to him again and slinging his top leg over her thighs to lock her in place against him. He nuzzled her neck, whispering in her ear, "But you're what I asked him for."

That was all it took to set Lucy reeling. With her pulse racing, her mind could barely process what Wyatt might be insinuating. He couldn't possibly mean… She took a deep breath, at a loss for what to do or how to respond. And with his head buried in the crook of her neck, his warm breath on her skin wasn't helping with her attempt at coherent thought. So she tried to take a mental step back, fixing her gaze on the blank expanse of the gray t-shirt he'd worn under his flannel shirt.

Blank, to Lucy's horror, aside from the small dark, damp spot. Right where her mouth had been resting upon waking up. "Oh my god," she moaned, mortified. "I  _drooled_  on you." She scrambled to push away from him once again, muttering, "I'm so sor-"

A low, deep rumble of a laugh echoed up from Wyatt's chest and he pulled her back to him once more. "Lucy," he chuckled sleepily into her hair, "if I was in any way offended by your spit or drool or whatever, I wouldn't have been dying to kiss you again for  _months_." With that quiet admission, he finally leaned back a bit and fully opened his eyes to meet her gaze earnestly in the dim glow of early dawn.

Lucy blinked, stunned, at him, quite sure she'd never felt this particular mix of embarrassed, flattered, excited, and disbelieving before. Was she dreaming  _now_? "But-" she started, not knowing what else to say.

He just shook his head gently and interjected, "When you were set on being alone today, ever stop and think that maybe  _I_  didn't want to spend my Christmas without  _you_?"

Well, no, Lucy almost blurted out. How was she supposed to know  _that_  when the last mention of  _anything_  between them had been that vague allusion to possibilities so many months ago? When she'd begun to think that even  _that_  had been a figment of her own wishful thinking? She bit her lip, hedging. "I just didn't think-"

"You have  _me_ , Lucy," Wyatt said simply, his clear blue gaze boring into her. "Always."

Lucy almost laughed at herself in response, feeling her eyes well up with tears  _again_. But mostly she felt her heart swell, the thrill of hearing that sentiment from Wyatt taking precedent over everything else.  _This_  possibility, on  _this_ night, had been the farthest thing from her mind when she'd opted to stay home. She sniffled, and tried to choke out a muffled "I'm glad", but her words were quickly swallowed by the kiss that Wyatt pressed to her lips.

It started out sweetly soft, a series of gentle little pecks punctuated by giddy grins and shy smiles. But eventually the kisses lingered a little longer, Wyatt's hand crept a little higher up under the back of her shirt, and a few tempting teases by tongues snuck into the embrace. Lucy shivered in Wyatt's arms at that first tentative slide of his tongue over her own, those little frissons of energy that she'd felt in 1934 back with a vengeance, amplified by the knowledge that this was  _real_.

All too real when, with the sun still barely casting a pink glow across the early morning sky, Wyatt abruptly pulled back from Lucy in an awkward attempt to stifle a yawn. She couldn't help but giggle at his adorably bashful grin.

"To be continued when we have a few more hours of sleep?" he offered sheepishly, already breaking into a second yawn.

Lucy nodded with a small smile, and with no further words necessary, they seamlessly rearranged their positions, far more cozy, comfortable, and entangled than when she had initially snuck onto the futon.

Once she was curled up in Wyatt's arms, her head resting on his shoulder, one of his hands absently stroking her hair, Lucy gave him a squeeze of a hug and pressed a quick kiss to his chest before he dozed off. "Merry Christmas, Wyatt," she whispered. "Thank you for today."

It was another few beats, and honestly, Lucy thought she may have dreamt it, but she could have sworn that Wyatt murmured back at her, "Thank you for every other day of this year, Luce."

* * *

Now, Lucy had always been a fan of Christmas, but for the family closeness and nostalgia more than anything. None of the more sensational, mystical qualities that some people associated with it.

At least that had been the case until that year.

In the weeks, months, years going forward, she couldn't help but think that, when it came to finally admitting their feelings, she and Wyatt had benefited from a little bit of Christmas magic in 2017.

**~FIN~**

 

**Author's Note:**

> **I hope everyone who celebrated had a lovely Christmas. Even if you didn't have your very own Santa!Wyatt show up at your door. I tried valiantly to get this posted on the 24th or 25th, but, unlike Lucy, I did have family obligations, so it was not to be. Hopefully everyone is still enough in the holiday mood that you can appreciate this belated posting :)**
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> **Happy new year, everyone – may 2018 be full of many wonderful new Timeless episodes for all of us!**


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